


Carry You

by shitstuck



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, M/M, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 21:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7122493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shitstuck/pseuds/shitstuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not until the fight is over that you see him.</p><p>I saw a really sad picture of Dave carrying Karkat's body and I wrote this short little thing and it's 4 am and I'm posting it for some reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry You

**Author's Note:**

> http://65.media.tumblr.com/2d15f2c6f1d68edcf19365f6983edec4/tumblr_mqdgebnFv31r5xa9mo1_r8_1280.png
> 
> the picture (not mine)

It’s not until the fight is over that you see him. 

You see him, lying so still on the ground there, not moving at all. And suddenly nothing else really seems to matter and you’re pretty sure something in you just broke because now you’re kneeling at his side even though you still feel like you’re a million miles away. 

“Karkat?” Your voice breaks and you set your hand on his shoulder. It’s not as warm as it should be. Normally his skin is hot, which makes kissing him turn steamy fast. 

He doesn’t move. His chest (you remember how it feels to have your arms around the solid warmth of that chest) does not rise. It does not fall. 

“Karkat?” you manage, a little louder, a little more desperate. You shake his shoulder, even though you know. You know, you know, you know. But you turn him over and see the tiny trickle of dried blood on his chin and the faint tear tracks down his cheeks and the mess that was once his torso. 

“No, no, no no no nonononono NO!” you scream.

You grab his head and press your lips to his. They’re cool and still. The rumble of his breath is silent. His dreamself is dead and it’s pointless and you do it again because you can’t stand it, no no you can’t stand it, he’ll wake up somewhere and find you, he has to.

You bury your face in his chest (never mind the bloody mess below, this is _Karkat,_ it’s okay) and you think you’re hyperventilating in the sharp tang of his blood, and you can’t get how unnatural it feels to have him here, still and cool, instead of having him like a fire in your arms.

You wish you don’t know how long you stay there but you don’t move for six whole minutes. And then you take one arm around his back and one under his knees and pull him to you princess-style and press him close.

(You’ll never feel him like that again, solid and hot and alive in your arms and leaving marks on your shoulders and neck and pressing a little too hard with his claws and sometimes being a little toothy but damn if you didn’t like it.)

Your feet lift off the ground and you hover like a ghost over to where the others are standing. There’s some of his blood on your face and your clothes and you’re a sobbing mess and you nearly drop him once because the thought of him gone makes you dry heave. 

And then you arrive, and you touch down but you can’t seem to make your legs support your weight so you just let yourself buckle like a folding chair, until you’re lying on top of him and shaking with sobs. There’s an awful sort of ripping sound and it takes some time before you realize it’s actually you. 

There are a few hands on your back and none of them are hot like him and he’s all you want, he’s all you need, he could always calm you down, always knew what to say and do. And people are talking softly to you and you can’t really understand what they’re saying and you don’t care because the only words you want to hear come from the lips you just kissed. 

And as you lie there, curled around what used to be him, you come to accept that this is a corpse.

He is dead.

You are alone.


End file.
